pain and need
by Gadani13
Summary: Illya is in hospital after a trush attack, Napoleon feels guilty.
1. hospital

**Pain and need**

**Chapter 1**

Eyes swollen, right cheekbone broken, a fracture to the skull,... Napoleon sighed. It was Illya in the hospital bed indeed, however he was difficult to recognize. The face was a colorful balloon. So swollen, his normal head could fit two times his new one. His blond hair was plastered to his skull. Nurses had tried to was the blood out of his hair but that wasn't an easy task.

"Hey buddy" Napoleon whispered as he had noticed some movement in his friend's hand. "What have you done this time?" His brown eyes lowered in regret as he memorized last night events. "I'm so sorry tovarish."


	2. Feeling betrayed

Pain and need

**Chapter 2 feeling betrayed**

6 hours earlier.

Napoleon had asked his friend out to the movies, Illya had accepted the invitation without hesitation. He loved to spend time with his partner and only person he actually trusts. At around 8.30pm Illya was still outside waiting at the ticket booth, but there was no Napoleon. He knew then that he was forgotten and there must be a woman involved.

Probably Angelique, the thrush villain. She always had the perfect timing to interrupt. Illya despised her as much as she despises him, Napoleon's attention towards Illya always faded from the moment she enters the scene. Lust becomes his top priority again.

The blond man closed his jacket and left the cinema in anger. He felt foolish for being cast aside, felt angry because he had longed to be in Napoleon's presence. He loved to get his attention and friendship, however he realized his feelings went much deeper then Napoleon's. Napoleon was too much of a player to have such strong and serious feelings towards a person, Illya knew that.

The young man slammed his fist on the top of his blue car. "idiot" He whispered through gritted teeth.

"idiot indeed." were the last words Illya heard before darkness surrounded him and everything ended in silence.

Napoleon had no clue when he arrived at the cinema around 9pm. One hour later then promised but at least he was there… Angelique had paid him a visit indeed, he couldn't refuge this golden opportunity.

He stared at the empty entryway with a tight smile, there was no trace of Kuryakin. Knowing his friend, he must have fled home in anger. The dark haired man knew it was best to cool things down before meeting Illya again. So he returned home. Feeling a bit lonely, he turned on his radio and took a deep sigh as his communicator started beeping.


	3. waking

Pain and need

**Chapter 3 waking**

Blue eyes peeped behind the swollen lids, they slowly lowered to watch who´s hands were touching his. To his delight it were Napoleon´s soft hands, hands who had held countless of women and now they finally held Illya's cold hand. Ironically for Illya, he always had to endure a trauma before he could get some attention.

"Hey there, finally awake?" Napoleon moved closer towards Illya. "No need for you to talk, tovarish. You've been asleep for two days..." The blonds' gaze penetrated the brunets soul. "Hey? I was there you know! Just a bit late… Stop giving me that stare! I had a visitor." Illya rolled his eyes painfully with disgust and turned his head slightly away from his partner. He didn't want to hear any petty excuses, not now.

"Come on Illya? What's the matter with you lately?" Napoleon frowned as he moved closer, he tried to see his partners expression but Illya gave nothing away. "Are you jealous? I mean, I can't help it! You know I become suave with woman in distress? I do understand as a man, you… it mustn't be fun for you ."

Illya sighed. "Napoleon…" He was still facing the other side of the room.

"What? Just tell me! You want one of those girls? Just tell me next time! For heaven sake partner, there is no need for jealousy between us."

"You don't understand…" was the almost inaudible response. "Can't you just leave me alone please?"

"No, not this time pall. We are going to talk this out." Napoleon said as he moved to the other side of the bed, watched Illya closely. There was a sadness over the young man, a sadness that had grown since the past six months. Napoleon had noticed that, as well as many others inside U.N.C.L.E. Nobody knew what was wrong with him, Illya never spoke about his private life but it was noticeable enough.

He seemed more depressed, silent and even more tensed. He even seemed jealous at times. Something Napoleon described this to his lack of dating in the past year. Women even started to ignore the blond, they ran away from his coldness. He was often ignorant and rude towards them as well.

"Illya?" He whispered as he tenderly stroked the boy's undamaged cheek. "What changed you so much?"

The blond boy opened his eyes and stared into the brown gentle doglike eyes. His partner was so close, he could smell Napoleon's soap. He could feel his breath softly against his lips, the smell of coffee penetrated his nose. Illya moved closer and brushed his damaged lips against the brunet's. He held his breath as he studied Napoleon's face, he noticed the pupils in the brown eyes had dilated in shock. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

The next thing Illya heard was the door closing and Napoleon's steps in the hallway, he was alone again. Like always, he was alone.


	4. The handkerchief

**Chapter 4: The handkerchief**

After being unable to sleep all night, I had to visit him. I had to hear some explanation of him, Illya had been my friend for some years, he still is my friend but I need to know. I need to know why… Why did he try to kiss me? Was I so blind? For how long was this going on?

Napoleon rubbed his eyes as he sighed. This situation had become complicated, even for him. He had affair after affair, so many affairs…. So many love interests and his friend had always been there, right next to him. Illya had seen him flirt and kiss with all those women. Napoleon had often bragged about what happened afterwards, in bed or in the car even. How humiliating this must have been for his friend.

"Hell of a friend you've been Solo." He murmured under his breath as he grabbed a fresh handkerchief out of his drawers .

One hour later

The room was silent as he entered, startles blue eyes watched him as he entered. They watched unsure over Napoleon as he walked closer to the bed. "I thought to bring this over, since I know you need it to sleep better."

Illya groaned as he tried to look at what his partner was holding. He took the white handkerchief and held it clamped in his fist. "Thank you."

"You're welcome partner." He whispered with a tiny grin. It had always been cute to know that his partner needed a piece of cloth tugged in his hand to be able to sleep. Napoleon knew some of these facts. He knew for a fact that his partner has a need to touch things, his fingers has to feel anything. It's a way of securing himself. He also has a manner of standing close to Napoleon which is also likely is a way of security. "We need to talk Illya."

"There is nothing to discuss, it was a mistake." The older agent sat down before he continued speaking. "No mistakes were made. I want you to be honest for once. How long has this been this going on?"

The blond closed his eyes. "some years, I guess." He sighed, knowing his world was going to end once again. "I never mend to tell you… I'm so sorry."

"To be honest, I never had something with a men Illya…"

"I know… You don't have to make excuses Napoleon. I know your answer…"

"You had something with a man before?" I need to know Tovarish."

Illya closed his eyes for some seconds, knowing there was no going back now. He had to tell the truth, Napoleon deserved to know who or what his partner really is."Yes… His name was Anthony. I met him in the university of Sorbonne." His partner smiled. Finally he would hear something out of his friend's past, it was about time now. "Anthony? A French boy?" He smiled further as he noticed his partner turned bright red. "No,… British. He was a student on loan, just like me. After that year he returned to Cambridge and I followed of course."

"How old were you?"

"I was 16 end Anthony 19." There was a silence in the room for a moment before he continued speaking. " We were together for almost two years but I had to return to Russia for 18 months. I had to do my military service. In that time I received a letter that Anthony had died in a car accident."

Napoleon held his breath, that was not what he had expected. Again a tragic ending for his friend. "I'm sorry about that."

"That's ok Napoleon, it's the past." The blond man gave his partner a shy smile. "He's actually the first and last man I had a relationship with. I tried with women but it was never the same, you know. Kissing women… it's not the same. "

"I can't tell, my friend. Never kissed a man until you did. Must say it affected me somehow."

"In what way?"

"That I keep thinking about you and wonder how it would be? I never been with a person who actually cares about me."

Illya lowered his head. "I'm sorry if I confused you." He whispered while he fumbled his handkerchief.

"No Illya please… give me some time. I want to actually know you better."


	5. Little Russia

Pain and need

**Chapter 5 Little Russia**

It had been a week since the kiss and Napoleon was a man with a plan. He wanted to know Illya better, they had talked every day since the incident. Talked about their feelings, about work and the future. This finally felt right in Napoleon's heart, if Illya were a girl... Well, this would have been it! He had everything Napoleon wanted in a future wife but Illya is a man and Napoleon never dated a man before. So, he wanted to do this well. His partner had no clue as he drove slowly trough Brighton Beach, Little Odessa the place was named. The streets were packed with Russian merchants and restaurants. Where better to start than here, in New York's biggest Russian community! He knew Illya went here frequently in his day's off. Napoleon never really paid that much attention towards Illya's culture. He didn't mind Illya was a communist. He didn't really care about someone's culture, as long as they are a good person at heart.

The sun shone nicely as he entered the first store, it was a small grocery like store. Nothing fancy…  
It looked a bit poor even. The costumers eyes him suspicious, he was to obvious American… Damn it. The words ran through his mind. You look so obvious American, Illya's words. Napoleon gave everyone a warm, charming smile. People were still watching him, … in a not so nice way. Next time, he'll come in a cheap jeans and shirt.

"What you want?" An older man asked in a thick accent.

"Oh, hello Sir. I came for an information."

"Know nothing."

"No no sir. I'm interested in your culture. I've met someone, a Russian person." A silly laugh escaped Napoleon's mouth. "You understand? I'm in love?" He whispered.

"Ah! Zhenshchina!" The man smiled "Zhenit'sya? Marry gher?"

"Yes, I would love to but I need some advice. I know little about her culture."

"You go and buy flowers, shop over there. Russkie love flowers." The man yelled as he pointed to the other side of the street.

"Okay, and what more?"

"No yellow! Bad luck!"

Another man stood closer en pointed his finger at him. "You open door for girl! And pay at restaurant! Give her jewelry!"

"No kissing at the first date! You marry her of course after a month of dating." A young lady advised.

Napoleon raised his eyebrows. No wonder his partner is so reserved. The people kept on giving him advice and dating rules. Relationships were quite complex down here.

In the hospital

Illya was ready to go. His face was still very tender but this wasn't the first time he had broken something in his face. He had tried hard to look on his best, even under these circumstances. He wanted to make an impression on Napoleon. His hair looked nice, his bangs covered some of his head wounds. He had asked his partner two days ago to bring him a white shirt and a light jeans, he knew he looked good in these. He walked nervously out of the bathroom, Napoleon had told him he wanted to know him better and that thought made Illya nervous. The two had talked every day since the accident. It had made their friendship stronger but a hospital wasn't a place to start a romance. He hadn't been able to kiss or touch his friend.

"Are you ready Tovarish?" Napoleon smiled as he noticed Illya was in deep thought. He placed his hand onto his partners lower back. "Hi…? You ready to go?" Illya tensed under Napoleon's hand as he turned his head. Napoleon noticed a shy smile on the blonds sober face. "Haven't slept much, was so excited to get out of this place."

"I bet you are!" He whispered as he stroked his friend's bruised cheek. The blond lowered his gaze, he could be so shy. It made Napoleon's heart beat faster. "Let's get out of this place then."

Once in the car, the mood changed lightly. There hung a silence over Illya. Napoleon glanced sideways as he slowed the car in traffic. Illya looked so nice, even with a taped nose and a thick cheek. He looks so damn cute. "You look nice, Illya."

Illya's cheeks flushed, he kept staring in front of him. "You look nice too." He whispered. The brown eyes gazed down towards the blonds stiff arm which lay uncomfortable over his left upper tight. He could see a noticeable bulge through his pants. Illya was obviously excited. "You're okay?" Napoleon whispered as he placed his hand over his best friends'. He could feel the erection against one of his fingers. It gave a shock wave trough Napoleon's tummy. He never touched a man this way. "We're almost home buddy." He whispered as he stroked the blonds hand. "You must be hungry? Being in the hospital makes a man hungry."

"Yes, it does."

Speaking made Illya feel better, much better. Napoleon had a talent to make people at ease. He could make the most awkward moments look normal. He's such a good friend. The tension dropped as Napoleon made Illya further at ease. Stroking his arm now and than while switching the subject towards tonight's dinner.


	6. The date

Pain and need

**Chapter 6: The date**

We entered my apartment just after seven. I had chosen my own space to spent the date because it's more convenient, more ordered then Illya's. My apartment is more spacious , even it's the same size. We share apartments in the same building. When you enter Illya's home you need to find a way through his books and gadgets. That man is a hoarder. He never throws something away. "You'll never know when I'll need it." And indeed, he has used everything for his disguises, or for experiments. His mess has often saved our lived.

"Make yourself comfortable." I said while I opened the Champagne. Illya eyed the roses which stood on the small coffee table. It made me nervous for an instant. Perhaps flowers were a mistake, it's more suitable for a woman after all. What if Illya takes this wrong?

"I would love to Napoleon, but were did this sudden change of heart come from?" The blond answered with a blush.

I had no clue what he was talking about, did I take the flower shop's advice wrong? 'I euhm,… told you I like you didn't I?"

"Euhm, No the card actually reads like: Do you want to marry me?"

"In that case Illya." I whispered as I sat down and handed him his glass. "Do you want to spent the rest of your life with me?"

"Always." He whispered as they clinked their glasses. "We Russians always go for a fast wedding." The blond laughed and kissed me softly on my lips. My nerves exploded from the moment his hands roamed over my back, his lips sucked mine with no ending. Illya was intense in everything he did, he sucked my tongue as I entered his mouth. I never expected this from Illya, but he's damn erotic, so sensual. His hands are never still, they explore everything . They go from my back to my hair and wander downwards again to my lower back. He stimulated me to go on, to explore myself. He gives himself over to me and leaves me in total control which I'm very grateful for. This being the first time with a man, he doesn't force me into anything. Such a relieve fell from my shoulders as I now begin to understand my friend. He isn't dominant in any way, he just wants to be loved.

Being the dominant myself in many ways, I lean onto him. Illya lays himself with his back down onto the couch, waiting for me. I began to undress his shirt, very carefully with his face of course. His chest felt so smooth, his skin is so soft. It's odd to feel no breasts under his hands, but the nipples and the ribs felt so sensual as well. I heard him moan as I lingered kisses on his yaw. "I'm sorry."

"It's still a bit tender." He whispered out of breath.

"Do you mind if we skipped the dinner?"

A sneaky smile appeared on my friends face. "Of course not, do you mind if we went to the bedroom? Your couch is really uncomfortable."

"Well Illya you won't be disappointed with the bed."


End file.
